


Trolled

by Tish



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Archaeology, F/F, First Time, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: You never know just what you'll dig up, especially when someone like Missy turns up in your orbit.





	Trolled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NancyBrown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/gifts).



There was something about an old-fashioned, getting your handy dirty archaeological dig that made River feel like as happy as a pig in mud. She was sweaty, dirt-kissed, wind-blown, and so damned happy.

Even though she knew the jug she'd tenderly liberated from the soil was worth barely anything, even to the looters and collectors across the centuries, she felt she held riches beyond measure. This mundane connection to a civilisation, a household, to a family long since dead and buried filed her with awe. Maybe the jug held water for washing a small child, wine for a feast, or just sat upon a window ledge to be admired, River imagined a thousand scenarios as she gently rolled the ceramic jug in her hands, noting the small imperfections and cracks that made the piece unique. She smiled as she set it in her box and tagged it. Maybe one day, she'd find the time to pop back for a visit with the family.

The cool of the evening and a shower left River feeling fresh and invigorated as she sat at a table outside the village café. One sun had already set, and the second was lazily following as River paged through her journal.

Glancing up, she caught the eye of a woman sitting nearby and gave her a warm smile. The dark-haired woman grinned back and winked as she paid her waiter, waving a finger as a taxi-pod pulled up alongside. River idly watched the woman leave, musing on the woman's striking eyes.

 

A few months later, River stood staring down glumly at her mud-splattered body, arms outstretched as she tried to shake away the worst of the mess. Even worse, the dig was a complete disaster. She sighed and looked to the sky.

“Everything alright, dear?” A voice drifted over.

“What does it look like to you?” River couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice as she turned at the woman's voice. She stopped abruptly and frowned. “Haven't we met before?”

The woman tilted her head, “I'm not sure. I think I'd remember someone who walks around covered in mud.”

That brought a laugh from River. “Well, I don't make a habit of it. Did we meet in Glasgow? I was there a little while ago.”

“I haven't been there for a while, no,” replied the woman.

River snapped her fingers, sending a blob of mud flying. “Oh, the café. We didn't actually _meet_ meet, you left just as I was admiring your eyes.”

“All the better to see you with, my dear,” the woman said slowly, baring her teeth in a wolfish smile.

“Not with all this mud over me, that's for sure,” River held out a hand, then stopped. “Best not shake. Hello, I'm River.”

“A River full of mud, hello. Missy. What a lovely pot!” Missy pointed at something floating in the mud near River's feet.

River bent and picked it up. “It must have been dislodged by the mudslide.' She brushed as much mud away as she could without adding her own, and stared at the decoration. “How odd.”

“What's odd about a pot?” Missy asked.

“I didn't think the Orbhia were into realism in their art. Look. A woman and a stream,” River moved closer and showed Missy.

“She looks exactly like you. Curly hair and everything,” Missy pointed out.

“Really?” River stared intently at the image. “I wonder if he. No, he wouldn't,” she fell silent and stared into the middle distance.

“He who, and what wouldn't he do?” Missy asked, eyes alight and eager for gossip.

“Just an old friend, I just thought he might be pranking me. Silly, really,” River laughed to herself.

“A friend who commissions a potted portrait of you and buries it for you to find must be fun to be around. How did they get it so deep without making it obvious they'd buried something? Wait. They travelled through time! Ooooooeeeeoooooooh!” Missy waved her fingers in front of her face.

River found herself laughing in a muddy field, then in the blink of an eye, naked in a post-coital cuddle with Missy.

 

“I don't normally do this, you know,” Missy said as she slowly wound her fingers into River's curls.

“Well, how many chances does one get to pick up mud covered women?” River murmured sleepily as she relaxed in Missy's arms.

“Are you going to write about me in your big blue book of lovers, then?” Missy teased.

“No, that's just for keeping track of someone,” River answered with an easy smile.

“So, you're the possessive type? Will you track me with such gusto?” Missy asked innocently.

“It's not like that,” River found herself laughing. “It's a little complicated. Anyway, will I see you again sometime?”

“I'll pop over to Bespherian-IV in a bit. Got some business there,” Missy yawned.

“You're a busy business woman, I see,” River grinned. “I'm headed to B-VI, actually.”

“Maybe we should meet on B-V, meet half way?” Missy said. “Ugh, wait no. It's full of methane swamps. Make it six.  
  


River toyed with her box of noodles, not caring that they'd gone cold. She'd come to terms with being stood up by Missy and was just people watching now. Her contact box pinged, jolting her out of her reverie. She wearily played the message from Missy.

“I'm so sorry, things are _literally_ exploding around me. Catch you soon, sweetie! Bye!”

In the noise of the lunchtime crowd, River couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn there were a few loud bangs in the background of Missy's message.

“Back to the salt mines,” River sighed as she organised her planet hop.  
  


Deep in the dig, River felt whole again, marvelling at every new find. Stopping by a wall, she watched as the field workers carefully sluiced away the last coating of mud from the newly exposed mosaic. A cheer of delight came as the sheer pornographic details were seen for the first time in five thousand years.

“Hello, ladies,” River whispered as she admired the artwork of inlaid stones and tiles.

The workers washing the higher tiles stopped and looked down from their scaffolding, nudging each other as they laughed.

River looked up, her eyes slowly tracking to the faces on the mosaic. The local Bespherians looked nothing like the women up there. There was no denying it, that was _her_ face up there, _her_ face rendered in orgasmic fever, and Missy's devilish grin painted on the face of the other woman.

“Hello, sweetie,” River muttered as she shook her head, before letting loose a peel of laughter.

 


End file.
